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2013.04.16 - Encounters and Conversations
So it's midafternoon on a weekday, Suicide Slum is no fun, and the Pope is Catholic. Despite the grit and rust and abandoned cars and what-have-you, it *is* midafternoon, so it's also mostly deserted. Except-- there's a man in black and purple standing on the sidewalk, facing a building across the street. It's a weathered and dilapidated warehouse, but it looks like repairs have steadily been going on. The fun thing here is that the man standing there, he's got his hands up in the air in front of him, miming motions, and whistling something unheard in the twenty-first century. And across the street-- --on the dilapidated warehouse with the crayon-written sign taped up next to the door that says 'Super-Hero Clubhouse'-- --rusty steel flows and sheds its oxidation, growing brilliantly bright in the sun, fluid. And they reform, perfected. The concrete can totally wait for someone else's job. Since it was a nice day, Ulrik was out flying and as per usual managed to get himself lost. He was looking for a place clear on the otherside of the city. However, when he spots Rokk miming at the metal beams that twist and turn for a moment, he decides to take a chance. Guitar slung across his back as he was flying, the young man slowly lowers himself to the ground holding a map of the city, held at a weird angle but protected by a light blue sheen that also surrounds his body. "Ummm... Excuse me... But could you tell me where I am at this time?" He asks nervously, his thick Swedish accent colouring his words. After the... 'Talk' last night, even if not everything that needed to be said was said, or everything that was described was described, some things may not have been dealt with. Thus after everything... After the food, one Imra Ardeen, recently arrived and a bit lost, kind of went off on her own. To try and collect herself. It is probably best not to guess what she thought about. But in the end, certain things were considered. Thus with some work, she ended up searching. For the 'clubhouse' with its crayon sign. In the end, she found it. but for now, even as Ulrik approaches Rokk, the Telepath from Titan stands on a nearby roof top watching, and possibly feeling a little conflicted. The beam Rokk was working freezes in place, looking like really shiny slag, and he turns to the kid that just landed with his map. "Earth," he says automatically, tone perfectly friendly. He hooks his thumbs in his pockets, stance utterly at ease. "I'm not sure what universe, but I lost the numbering system somewhere along the way. The United States of America, Metropolis, and specifically, Suicide Slum." His own accent's weird. It can be possibly attributed to a well-travelled Canadian of the Vancouver variety. "Are you looking for something in particular?" "Ja. I'm trying to get to ummm..." Ulrik reaches into his pocket and pulls out a card that has a different area of town entirely. When he hears suicide slums the teen frowns a little bit and looks around,"How did I end up here? I thought I was at /least/ near midtown when I was up in the sky." Yeah. Sense of direction is /not/ high on the list of skills that Ulrik possesses. "Something tells me I am not anywhere near my destination." He says laughing nervouly. It takes her a little bit. But then finally Imra takes a step forward, right off the roof top. Only she doesn't fall. Instead her flight ring slowly lowers her to the ground so that she ends up maybe a handful of steps behind, and slightly to the side of Rokk and Ulrik. All though as she hears what's said, she can't help but smile ever so slightly. "Unfortunately you're not. But it's not that hard to get there either." "--what she said," the man tells Ulrik, only mildly startled at the girl's appearance. "If you like, we can escort you. I mean--" he cocks a thumb at the blonde, then gestures to himself. "We can fly too, and you look jittery. Best way to get more lost is to be nervous when you're lost." Finally, the thirtysomething glances to the teenaged girl, as if asking if it's all right he essentially volunteered her. To Imra, Rokk Krinn telepathically says ~I don't know what you're afraid of. Me? Are you afraid of me?~ No, Imra doesn't appear to mind. Not as she offers Rokk an odd glance. Not an annoyed one. But an odd one none the less. And much like Ulrik, she's not exactly at ease either. But well.... It's something else. At least for the moment. "I'm almost tempted to ask which campus. But I won't. So where exactly are you headed?" And while that's said out loud, she sends a message back to Rokk telepathically. ~Yes... No. I'm just.... Adjusting. The past few months have been hell. The last few days especially. And just as soon as I thought we were home, I'm here and the others are gone.... Part of me just wants to shut down. I... I kind of did yesterday /UNTIL/ I felt the rest of you guys nearby.~' "You've got handheld GPS in this century, right?" the black-haired man says, casually stepping off the cement sidewalk and letting himself drift about a foot off the ground. "I think you need one. Or at least a compass," he adds with a laugh. "Come on, then, let's get out from between the buildings. And by the way, I'm Cos. This is Saturn Girl. And here, why don't you hand me the map?" So it goes he's in midair, offering one hand to shake, and holding the other out for the map. Rokk Krinn telepathically says back to Imra, ~You're afraid you're imagining this. That you're making this up. You're afraid I'm just a part of your mind.~ Cos' mental 'voice', unchanged from the one she knows so well, goes gentler. ~An illusion, or a puppet. But no, I'm not. I'll let you see, if you want. And I have better control these days: do you remember? Use my strength. Use it until you get your own back.~ "Just a second." Ulrik says as he closes his eyes for a moment and the sheen around the map vanishes,"Flying at over sixty with a piece of unprotected paper generally means the paper being torn to shreds." He says laughing softly,"It's the New York University. I am studying physics, with a specialization in well... doesn't matter." He says shrugging a little bit,"ANyway, here's the map and here's where I was trying to go but I think it might be better to get back to campus before it gets too late now..." And no, Saturn Girl doesn't step off. Instead she simply floats up a little. In fact she floats up enough so that she can see over Rokks shoulders and look at the map. All though as she does, she hrms, before glancing at Ulrik. "I see. Either way, we probably shouldn't sit here." Cos takes the map and automatically aligns it so north points to north, scans over it, then waits for Ulrik to lift off before heading up faster, dodging wires as he goes, then slowing down and stopping when they're high enough that he can fix their location relative to the map. "Okay. I see where you wanted to go. I can take us there or to the Uni significantly faster than sixty, shielded. Just pick." "I can fly faster than sixty, I just usually stay under that when I am looking at a map." Ulrik says as he begins lifting off the ground his body in a light panteen of light blue light. "I think I see where I need to go. You two have fun!" He says before he flies off at top speed, leaving behind a little bit of distorted air in the process. Thankfully it does appear that he is truly heading in the direction of the campus for once. So basically you got a blonde teenaged girl in pink and white spandex with a saturn theme, and a thirtysomething in black and purple civvies like an out-of-costume Power Ranger, and they're floating about five hundred feet above the tallest building in the area. And there is a map. And of course Ulrik flies off just as she reaches a comparable height as Rokk. Which prompts the blonde girl to reach up and massage her temples. At least before she finally glances at Rokk. "And I actually missed things like that happening." Telepathically Rokk Krinn is told ~Look, Rokk... I told you last night where I'm from. /WHEN/ i'm from. but... I'm not /your/ Imra. I know because where I'm from different people died. And who did... I...~' A subtle, /subtle/ power thrums through the atmosphere. For Imra, it might be discerable as a vague tingling sensation- for Rokk, it's as if the bow wave of a mighty ocean liner is cruising through the atmosphere, the geomagnetic field of the earth itself fairly groaning with distress. In scarce moments, a man flickers into existence, veiled behind obfuscating layers of bent light. Clad in deep crimson and purple, his face is cast into the deep shadows of his helmet. Only twin eyes of a glacial blue can be readily discerned, his only visible feature. Standing on an invisible platform, the man's eyes flicker to Imra, then almost dismissively turn to Rokk. "I thought I sensed something unusual," the man remarks with a self-satisifed tone. He folds heavy arms across his chest, his muscular form heavily protected by fitting armor. His voice is tinged by an oddly European accent- hard to pin down, but vaguely Eastern European in origin. "You, young man, are /incredibly/ noisy," Magneto informs Rokk, his melifluous baritone both amused and gently remonstrative. "I could sense your movements from miles away," he informs Rokk. He glances back at Imra. "What are you children doing up here at this hour?" Rokk's patiently conversing with Imra in their heads!! Because she's a telepath. He's thinking, ~Jan killed Candi. I know. And Garth was dead. Except he wasn't. The guy's got electricity for blood, Imra, you think he's going to let something like disembodiment slow him down? We thought *you* were all dead. So some of us were rebuilding in secret. Some of us went to the frontier, or joined the Science Police, or went to meditate in ten year intervals or whatever. That's what was happening. While you were all lost in the Second Galaxy, and you picked up Shikari, and horrible things happened.~ The second the disturbance shows up in the force, so to speak, Cos absently throws up his shield around himself and the teenager. "Of course you missed this. This is /great/! I mean-- even if it doesn't last, it's a vacation where we can do some good. It doesn't matter who is whose whatever. We're Legion. And by the way, something badass is coming toward us." Then the Titanic sails into port, and the Braalian turns to watch the helmet-clad and flowingly-caped mutant float into view. His eyes narrow almost imperceptibly when that glacial gaze more or less dismisses Imra. However, Rokk gives Magneto a wry smile. "If it's too loud, turn it down?" he offers, possibly for once out-pop-culturing someone else in their century. "Sorry, sir, no one else notices who bothers to tell me. I don't leave a trail of fritzed computers in my wake." Then he glances to Imra, confused. "Wait, are we not-- supposed to be up here?" There's a slight glance at Rokk as he says all of that, even if it is telepathically, before Imra takes a deep breath. After all, seeing, and hearing that is one thing, but still... It is a little bit of hope. Even as the wounds are still 'fresh' to her. Of course as he throws that shield up, and Magneto arrives, she goes silent. All though as she stares at him, her eyes go wide for a moment or two. ~We can talk about that later. Especially since who ever this is... I'm having trouble, a /lot/ of trouble getting anything from him. I'm not even sure how to describe it...~ And somewhere deep in the recesses of Rokk Krinn's soul, he fistpumps and goes 'yissssss' because Imra's not too broken to go business at the drop of a hat. ~Could be his shielding. He's a magnetokinetic, he could just have himself faraday caged. But I'm pretty sure we can have it now. I'm not THAT old, I can still multitask like a boss.~ He smiles politely confusedly at Magneto, trouser legs and civilian shirt flapping in the breeze as he waits, unmoving, in his shield with Imra. ~We've done this before. Here: I'm putting the first relevant part in front, from the minute Garth started undressing you with his eyes to the displacement of about half of Outpost Allon. Skim it to see if it matches yours.~ The inside of Rokk's mind is more complex than Imra last saw it, and the second she starts lightly ruffling the surface of his thoughts, he opens the door so she can come in and see again. But complex, yes: it's still laid out like a multimedia library, but the corridors are far longer, the crossreferences web the air with light, and his memories are more secure -- encrypted, even, like a computer's files. There's much more ambient love, and the sense that there's, on some level locked away in a saferoom, something like dread mixed with hope. The mental image he's projecting as a point of reference is himself at roughly her age-- i.e., a year older than she is. How he should look. How he last looked to her. And he's perfectly serious, and very much the same stable point in a maelstrom he's always been; his calm is as pervasive as the love. For Imra... Things are just too new. Too fresh. If there was a crisis, she may of pulled herself together a heck of a lot sooner. But to an extent... She's been left to stew. She's been cut off from her usual support system. From her friends. And now she's here... 'Talking' to Rokk... Or at least a Rokk... But still, as Imra wanders the library, it's as if the wounds she feels on the inside are showing outside. As if her uniform is ripped and torn, her face is bruised and even bleeding slightly in spots... And yet, as she encounters Rokks avatar she pauses, and can't help but smile. And that avatar just steps forward and *hugs* Imra, emphatically if not tightly-- he's too careful with the visible injuries on her for a tight hug. "I knew you were raw," he says with a face like :/, as he steps back and leaves his hands on her shoulders. Concern and apology and regret. "But I can't ever help unless you let me. Maybe we can do something about the bleeding. Here, take the outline--" Cos reaches down for Imra's hands, and puts a key in one of them. Then the timeline of his life stretches in Imra's vision, the part up to where he said lit up, and the rest of it dark and inaccessible without effort. It's organized by key team events with names like 'the sprocking Eye business' and 'space nun what' and 'white bloody triangle'. If she focuses on something, the details begin to fill in, that section essentially zooming in for her. "--and form a frame of reference. I might not be from your specific timeline; I might. But I'm proposing that I'm at the very least close enough that we don't have anything awkward to trip over. Then we'll know what else you need from me so you can get back on track." Unspoken, but obviously there as a concept: Imra will always have whatever she needs from Cos-- but now with the caveat that it not cost him anything he can't spare. "Because the Legion needs you whole. *I* need you whole." As the various aspects of Rokks life are opened to Imra, the telepath from Titans eyes go wide for a moment or two. At least before her expression becomes serious. But she doesn't just look for big things. She also looks for little things. Like who the UP put in charge of The Legion back before their first official mission. And things as far as she can tell do match up. Enough. There may be some details that don't exactly, but then again a lot of that can be chalked up to the passage of time, as well individual perspective. But still... Still, that hug is returned. In fact, as Imra pulls away, it's as if some of her wounds are gone. ~Thank you. And... I'm sorry. I'm trying to pull myself together. It's just been too much, to extreme, too quickly. But knowing that you're here... That the others, like Tinya are here... That you're you and not some illusion or worse... That alone helps more than I can ever say... More than I could ever put into words.~ "I know," says Cos wryly, affectionately. "I'm me. Laurel's not Laurel, though, she's a less aggravating one. I like her." "I know," says Cos wryly, affectionately. "I'm still me. Laurel's not Laurel, though, she's a less aggravating one. I like her." He reaches out to -- hesitate, apparently, before ruffling her hair and grinning. "I'm still me, just me from the future. I know you just as well as I know your older self. If you were making me up, I wouldn't be--" Seamlessly, he goes from the uniform she knows to one which has a darker purple, and most of it's black, all black from the waist down, and all-black sleeves-- but still the fingerless magnoball gloves, and still the discs and... uh, shoulder fins, and still the utility belt. It's the same basic principle, it's just something the thirty-five-year-old wearing it would, you know, wear at thirty-five. Rokk puts an omni in Imra's hands. It is full of baby pictures and kid pictures. A black-haired green-skinned boy who is obviously a Krinn and a set of twins, both girls, both black-haired and gold-eyed and a little darker-skinned than Cos. "--I wouldn't be showing you pictures of my kids." Pictures of... Yeah. Cue a small brain break here. Well, maybe not a true 'brain break', but that is still enough to catch Imra off guard. Especially as she looks at the pictures. For a moment or two. But almost as soon as she does, she shakes her head and tries to offer the omni back. ~Thank you. But... I shouldn't. We both know what can go wrong if we know too much about the future. And if this is the future, then...~ There's a head shake. ~But yes... You definitely are you.~ All though as that's said, Imras avatar changes a bit more. Not only do the wounds vanish, but it's almost as if her costume not only repairs itself, but it even alters slightly. The colors and general look are the same, but there's also a sort of mini cape that drapes over her shoulders, and instead of the generic Legion belt with its large pouches it's now a simpler belt with the 'Saturn Symbol' for a buckle. ~I'd make a joke Rokk about you being a 'Rock of stability', buuut...~ "Ooh, going for a new uniform? I didn't get here wearing mine, and other Legionnaires really only just started arriving, so I haven't bothered rustling up a new--" He takes the omni back, hanging it from his belt. Abruptly, Rokk pauses, eyes fixing on the buckle. Not 'nice cape'. No. Mister Cite the Section and Subsection says hesitantly, clear blue eyes looking up to meet Imra's own, "No Legion symbol? Is that symbolic in and of itself, or just a fashion choice?" And as she raises her hand up, she shows that her ring is still there. And it still has its Legion 'L'. ~I'd say fashion... But it may be a little of both. I'm still a Legionaire if that's what you're asking. But...~ There's a shrug.~Some times you just need a change. And after what I've been through... What's happened... What I did... I need a little change.~ Category:Log